The muscles and tissue ached under his expert hands, but the medicated lotion did its job, quickly relieving the pain and burn.
“Don’t get used to this. More often than not, I like seeing the marks of a good blistering on a bad girl.” He pinched harshly she assumed to prove his point. Blythe sucked in air through her teeth, stiffening in response. “That’ll do for now. Kneel on the bed like you did last night.”
“But it’s daylight.”
Sighing loudly, Xan slapped her right buttocks. “Behave. Warning! Move, pet!”
The warning signal raced through her collar and butt plug, just a warning twinge. She scrabbled into position, quickly. The bedspread felt cool under her blushing face, the embarrassment of having her ass exposed in such a way without the cover of night.
Xan tugged at the removable core of her plug, unscrewing it from the main part. The tink of ice had her bracing.
He put ice into the hole?
Her bowels constricted immediately with the extreme cold, cramping uncomfortably.
“Hurts, doesn’t it, pet?”
The ping of ice against the metal in her bottom hole had her groaning. Not being able to see or know what he put into the open plug made it worse in her mind. The persistent roiling made her nauseous, sweat beading on her brow.
“Yes, Master.”
“You see, girl, I don’t have to lash or paddle that broad bottom of yours. I have many other tools in my chest, but since this isn’t a punishment, we’ll stop for now. I just wanted to play with your little pucker before we continue with your practice.”
He pulled out the plug, and she couldn’t restrain the grunt with its release. The snap of another lid, and he worked cold lube into her puckered hole, spreading her with his fingers. The wiry hair on his thighs brushed against her, his hard cock lined up along the crevice of her labia and buttocks, pumping through the divide.
She fought against any reaction at all, not wanting to respond to his intrusion, but her clit throbbed, straining from under its hood with every glide of his penis. Her hips swiveled, pressing back against him.
He pushed the enormous head of his cock into her anus. The burn had tears brimming in her eyes. Biting her lip, she held back any moan or noise, willing herself to open her anus to his cock. The metallic taste of blood hit her tongue.
It’ll be over soon.
Xan pumped, pressing insistently. “Just a bit more, girl. You’ve taken almost half.”
She just knew she’d rip. If she hadn’t already. He slid in and out of her over and over. Although she couldn’t say he was rough, he certainly seemed to have no concern for the level of pain, a callous disregard that she had begun to cry aloud with each thrust, and no concern that her hands were fisted, white-knuckled gripping the bedspread for dear life.
With no end in sight, the alien impaled her, forcing her to endure and accept him. His fingers bit into her hips, squeezing the bruised flesh, adding to the torture.
“Please, Master.”
“And please me it does, my pet. If only you could see that little hole stretching for me.” He eased out of her. “Shouldn’t be long. You’ll take the whole of me, soon. Stay.”
Xan climbed off the bed, leaving her with her bottom still obscenely spread for him while he went to the bathroom, running water in the sink. She didn’t dare move, lying quietly staring at the huge plug he’d carelessly tossed within her view.
I have to escape. I have to get out of here.
He entered the room, his hard cock hard. jutting from him like a sword. The man was huge. no wonder she felt like she’d been torn in two. It bounced with his lumbering steps toward her. He grinned maniacally at her, sealing in her mind what was next.
“God, I love your soft body. So many curves and pillowed areas.” He grasped her left breast, squeezing it so harshly, she gasped out loud. “One of these days I’m going to fuck these tits, but not today. Today I want that hot cunt of yours weeping around my cock.”
He shoved his fingers into her, rubbing along the slickened areas. “Wet, as always. You drip with need most of the day, it seems. Don’t worry, pet, my cock is always ready too. We were made for each other.
Could it be she was meant for this planet? Could she actually be mated to a Pra’kir alien? Not to be maudlin, but had her fate been written in the stars?
He entered her slowly. His body shook with sexual tension, slowly impaling her He shoved up to the hilt, hitting the mouth of her womb, filling the whole of her. He stilled, his penis twitching within her, her sheath pulsing and she squeezing him.
Blythe moaned, her eyes rolling back. Her pussy milking his length, her clit throbbing, she swayed her hips, relishing his cock sliding within her.
He pounded into her with much more abandon than he’d exhibited the night before. The slapping of his hips against her sore ass, spurring her excitement, she climbed to an earth-shattering orgasm.
Xan pummeled the opening to her womb over and over. The pain, the fullness, the rhythmic smacking of flesh, her clit pulsing and straining, she rocked on her knees and elbows, slamming her ass into his hips.
She mewled with need, her pussy clenching, constricting, until she teetered over the edge, screaming with her orgasm. She clamped onto him so tightly, her body trembled, convulsing with each spasm.
Xan stiffened, lengthening impossibly within her, slamming his cock with one final thrust before growling with his own release. His hot seed spilled into her, tumbling her into another orgasm.
She rose up onto her hands and knees, her back arching, and she shouted, jerking her hips in response, her pussy pumping him dry.
His barely restrained grunts bordered on shouts of pain with each wrench of his cock.
The contractions, although slower, continued, her body twitching and shuddering.
“Fuck. I’m hardening again, girl.”
She couldn’t tell if he was pleased or not, and she didn’t care. Her dripping cunt and throbbing clit had also started their ascent to another orgasm.
He slipped from her, flipping her onto her back, his cock, glistening with their mingled juices, bobbing toward her. Xan situated himself between her legs, lining up with her slit, penetrating her. This time he didn’t go slowly. He hammered himself into her, thrusting harshly, battering her soft, slick cunt.
She sighed loudly, arching her back, her neck lengthening.. He deliciously filled her, spreading her open almost uncomfortably—almost.
He angled his hips, his cock, skating along her G-spot. She keened, squirming so he’d slide where she needed him most. Her hands gripped the swell of his buttock, squeezing each cheek, pulling her legs up to push him in deeper.
His deep voice rumbled in her ear. “Hands over your head. Grip the rails on the headboard. Do not move them.”
Reluctantly, she did as he asked, staring into those dark, mysterious eyes, clutching the wooden rails tightly.
He smirked at her before dipping his head to suck on a tightened nipple, pulling so roughly on it she moaned, pushing her breast up, her hips rolling with her arousal.
With slow, calculation, he started rhythmically swaying and grinding his pelvis, his heavy ball sac slapping against her.
She wanted to run her hands through his dark hair, sliding down to grip his shoulders, digging her nails into the flesh. Instead, not wanting to incur any wrath from her stern Master, she slid her hands along the rails.
His nostrils flared and, rising up onto his hands, he battered her already sore pussy. She matched him move for move, her hips slamming his, their sweat-covered skin slapping noisily.
He came first, spurt after spurt of his semen coating her. With a shout, she pressed her feet into the bed, her hips rising, lifting him up from the mattress. She clenched him so tightly, the strain on the muscles of her bruised ass reminded her of the punishments this morning, delightfully adding to her satisfaction. She released the headboard, her body collapsing, exhausted, onto the bed.
She vaguely remembered hi
s semi-erect, sticky cock slipping from her and his body slumping next to her, panting loudly. Effortlessly he pulled her to lay on top of him, her head against his chest, the beating of his heart calming her. His fingers lightly brushed along her back and bottom, stroking her gently.
Picking her head up, she looked at him tentatively. She never knew how to approach him or how to maneuver in this new slave status she suddenly had obtained. “Should I go lie down on my pet bed?”
He furrowed his brows. Had her request confused him?
“No. Not this time. Now, go to sleep, or I’ll change my mind.” He slapped her bottom playfully, but it stung enough she dropped her head on his shoulder, willing herself to fall asleep quickly.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Xan and Blythe had only been together for three weeks. Not long by any measure, but enough time they had slipped into a pattern. He usually arose before her, leaving her in her pet bed, chained to the wall, or sleeping soundly in his bed. He’d then sit in his office reading email, doing his record keeping, or studying medical research.
He’d watch Blythe eating breakfast from his monitors in the office or the medical room, knowing as soon as she’d finish, Ganza would take her upstairs for a shower. Some days she behaved, and others she’d be paddled by him after he found out she’d needed discipline from Ganza.
He looked at his records and papers, shaking his head. Compiling the genetic data and findings consumed him most days. He loved statistics and running comparison graphs and charts. Twenty-five years had gone by since Dr. Eldon Campria had shared his findings on the Mekron with the medical society and citizens of Pra’kir.
The sickly race the Pra’kirians had taken into their care wasn’t really worth all the money and effort, in his opinion and that of most of the government officials. They made them comfortable with no heroic measures assuring their comfort in the dying process. But this race, the ones from the planet Earth, or Terra as Blythe called it, appeared to be a sturdy, healthy species. They didn’t live anywhere near as long as the Pra’kirians, but their vitality and intelligence appeared to surpass them.
Xan felt invigorated with his research, imagining himself in the position of surgeon general. After all, Dr. Campria had filled those shoes for years, and as he approached a hundred and retirement and a replacement seemed imminent.
Sitting back in his chair, twirling a pencil between his teeth, he thought about sex with Blythe. She didn’t fight him as much anymore, and most nights she screamed with pleasure, responding easily to him. He hoped it was a trend that would continue, and felt maybe they had passed some of the initial transition and rough spots. He wasn’t an easy person to live with, a fact his ward/slave would agree with wholeheartedly, no doubt.
As far as Pra’kirian men went, overall, he was loyal and devoted. She had begun to see his soft side as he revealed it a little at a time. He’d still keep a tight leash on her, watching her every move. The last thing he needed was for her to escape or tamper with his medical equipment or any confidential files on his tablet
He rose, walking to the counter to put away the sterile tools from yesterday’s medical exam on Blythe, cataloging they were all accounted for.
He enjoyed giving her exams for no reason—just to watch her squirm, restraining her with both feet strapped into the stirrups, keeping her sex open for his finger or cock.
All tools were where they belonged, except one. The hypodermic needle and the medication base. He opened the cupboards, drawers, and the sanitizing machine, searching. It was nowhere to be found. He’d have to check with Ganza. She must have put it somewhere different, and he was just overlooking it.
He locked all the cabinets, swiping his hand over his tablet, turning the lights off, locking the door after one more quick glance around the room.
***
She waited a few minutes in the dark closet, opening the door slowly, tiptoeing to the clear glass door, and looking down the hallway before checking one last time that the instrument was securely hidden.
Blythe had entered his medical office, slipping away before her morning shower. She took advantage of an opportunity when Ganza ended up in a closet searching for an outfit for Blythe to wear that “would please the Master.” Now that she was further into her training, certain forms of attire were allowed.
She had no way of knowing Xan would be going to his office this quickly. He usually went later. Although in retrospect, she should have been assumed when he referenced the evening before that he’d be cataloging items in the morning.
Once she heard him walking down the hallway toward the office, she’d quickly hidden in a closet on the far side, hoping he had nothing in there that needed to be accounted for.
Before he had entered, she’d found the hypodermic needle and base from the drawer he usually placed it. Having watched Xan closely while he performed procedures upon her, she’d observed that pressing this particular button ejected a sterile needle from the syringe. Pressing the button, she watched the sharp piece of metal extend. She brushed the tip of her finger over the end, testing its sharpness. The needle returned into the syringe once the button was pressed again.
Since she had left the room before being given an outfit to wear, she pushed the silver instrument into her vagina. Blythe had played with ben-wa balls strengthening her pelvic floor enough to keep the instrument safely hidden.
This tool would help her escape. It was the last item she required before leaving. She didn’t know to where she’d go once she crossed the threshold, but at least she’d be leaving the house—and she’d take the rest step by step. She missed her friends and desperately wanted to find them. A couple of weeks prior, Rowth had contacted Xan, saying he needed to have some blood drawn from Brinley. Blythe swore her heart had stopped beating when she heard Xan say her friend’s name. As soon as he’d left, she ran to the window watching his car rise and connect to the railway system then make a sharp right out of his property. She watched his vehicle until it could no longer be seen. She’d take the same route and hope to find her shipmates .
But, right now? She needed to get back to her room and hide the instrument. Doing all of this with no detection would be a struggle.
Bending her knees a little, she inserted her forefinger, bumping against the hard metal. She gave it another little shove upward, clenching tightly onto the now warm, slick metal.
Quickly righting herself, she opened the door, creeping down the hallway.
Empty. No one in sight.
Slinking stealthily down the hall, she peeped around doorways and corners. She’d barely made it to the end of the hall, hovering at the top of the staircase, when she heard the commotion on the first floor.
“What do you mean you don’t know where she is?” Master’s voice boomed, his shoes pounding on the tile floor, as he stalked toward the foyer from the back of the house.
“She was right there, Sir. I went to the closet to pick an outfit for her to wear, and when I turned around, she was gone, sir.” Ganza’s voice was high-pitched.
“By Na, she’s just a slip of a thing. She couldn’t have gotten very far. If she’s gone, so help me God, you’ll be retiring early!” His dark, angry countenance glared at his staff before rounding the staircase and he was just starting to climb, when he saw Blythe at the top of the stairs.
“You!” He pointed his finger at her, and then toward the floor in front of him. “Get down here, immediately.”
Blythe shook her head. “N-no.” She spoke in a quiet, firm tone, suppressing her fear.
“Wrong answer!” He bounded up the stairs two and three at a time, not taking his eyes off her for a moment.
With a small screech, Blythe ran with her thighs pressed tightly together, not wanting to lose the hidden tool on the floor in front of him.
Just outside his bedroom, his hand snatched her by the upper arm, dragging her unceremoniously to the center of his room, leaving her shivering in fear before him.
“Where in the infernal he
ll were you?” he shouted, a vein bulging on his forehead.
“I went to use a bathroom down the hall.” It sounded weak even to her.
His eyes narrowed, taking a threatening step toward her, growling, “Why?”
“B-because I needed to use the facilities and, well, I wanted privacy.”
“You have no privacy! As my pet, you do as you’re told.” He put his hands on his hips, tossing his head back and closing his eyes briefly, before opening them again to glare at her. “You’ll be punished for this. I can’t blister your ass for as long as I’d prefer due to the bruising of your beating this week, so you’ll be receiving another punishment. One you’ll despise. I’m betting you’ll be wishing for a spanking before it is done, too!”
“Oh, no.” She backed up a couple of steps. She couldn’t tolerate another whipping. She just…couldn’t. But he didn’t care—it was written all over his face. The tic in his jaw and the twitching of his hand at his side were indicators of a man who would do as he pleased. “What is the other punishment, Master?”
“You’ll receive twenty with my belt, which may still be too much for your ass. And then, since you wanted to use the facilities with privacy—you’ll be stripped of any privacy. You’ll be required to urinate outside while wearing a leash—for a week. You will not wander around this house unsupervised again, young lady.”
“Out…outside?”
“Oh yes, my girl. Do you think you’ll be wishing for a blistering instead? Tough decision, isn’t it?”
She nodded back at him, her eyes brimming with tears, blinking them quickly away, the evidence of her remorse, tracking down her cheeks and drenching her neck.
The nurse brusquely entered the room. Xan addressed her sharply, “Ganza, will you please draw Blythe a bath? She’ll need to soak after this. And then we’ll be discussing your involvement in this fiasco also.” Nodding, Ganza moved to the bathroom. He stalked toward his closet. “I need to find my wide belt.”
The Alien's Mark (Captives of Pra'kir Book 4) Page 11